


The Procedure

by shudder



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, POV Second Person, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shudder/pseuds/shudder
Summary: You really don't want to be coughing up petals over your best friend, but here you are.
Relationships: John Egbert/Dave Strider
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	The Procedure

**Author's Note:**

> this was just an excuse to write hanahaki worldbuilding, really

This is so unbelievably unchill of you. This thing with Egbert was supposed to be just an experiment between the two of you, nothing more than a few blowjobs during a movie on occasion, but somehow here you are in front of the mirror with bloody flower petals in the sink bowl. You should ask Jade what type of flower this is. She’s into flowers and herbology. Rose is into the weird medical stuff, though, so maybe that’s more her speed. You’ll make sure to message them when you finish getting ready.

You didn’t even know you had feelings for the guy, but now you’re like the teen protagonist of an anime, coughing up your lungs about it. Now you just need to run out the door with a piece of toast in your mouth to complete the look. It takes a moment for it to hit you that the flowers must mean he doesn’t love you. Not like that at least. That hurts. You were sure the guy had an obsession with you, that he was the one who was in love, not the other way around. The flowers don’t lie, though, they’re like a truth serum for your heart.

Your train of thought gets derailed by another cough, this one lower in your chest. You heave, the petals forming themselves around the branches of arteries in your lungs, then detaching. It’s so painful already, and the doctor can’t get you in for treatment until next week. Until then you’ll just have to take some decongestants and an Advil or two. You finish doing your hair and check your phone.

TG: i got hanahaki 

TG: just thought you should know 

TG: it's not like an sti or whatever but i'm coughing up fuckin bouquets over here

EB: dave are you okay? 

EB: is this about me........? 

EB: i didnt realize you felt that way!

TG: nah man it's cooler than a snowman's balls over here 

TG: i'm seeing the doctor next week, they'll just cut the flowers out or whatever

EB: okay........

TG: don't even stress man

It’s not like you even have a serious case, emotionally or physically. You’re fine, but it’ll probably eat the kid up inside no matter what. Poor dude, he’s not as in charge of himself as you are. 

You finish getting ready and leave. You decide to call an Uber, there’s no way you’re dealing with coughing up petals into a bag on the train. At least you have a job where you don’t have to call out for this shit, that would not be cool. You’ve heard of people even getting fired for getting Hanahaki often. When you’re the boss, it’s gonna be a Hanahaki free for all. Everyone can come in and cough up bloody flowers everywhere. That would be cool. In a twisted way, sure, but still pretty cool. 

You shoot off an email to human resources about your appointment, then get to work. You’re mostly able to work at a normal rate, except for the occasional hacking up of your lungs. Your cubicle partner gets on your case about it each time, playfully digging into who and why you’re so head over heels. 

“I’m not, my family just always gets it harder and more often than other people. It’s ‘cause we’re the illest motherfuckers on the planet,” you tell her, eyes not even leaving your screen.

“Mhm, sure,” she replies with a smirk. 

It doesn’t get under your skin, definitely not, but that doesn’t mean you can’t want to correct her. The sheer number of times Dirk dragged you to the doctor with him as a child due to various bouts of Hanahaki Disease would make a health insurance representative faint, frankly. This is only your second time, and it’s way milder than last time. 

The next week passes much the same way, and you drain more of your money on ridesharing apps than you’d like to admit. 

Eventually, your doctor’s appointment rolls around. It took long enough, your sickness has already progressed to whole fucking flower heads. Jade said it was some sort of poppy. Whatever it was, it hurts on the way out, and you can feel each one when it comes. It feels like your blood is clumping on its way through your lungs, and then forcing itself out.

“Hi, I’m your doctor today. Hanahaki, huh?” he asks when he walks in. 

You nod. “Poppies.” You know how this goes, there’s no reason to make him ask you all the questions. “I want it removed. I know about the side effects.” You didn’t even want to fall for John, so you have no real qualms about losing that. You’ll probably stop sucking his dick, though. Don’t want to risk it coming back.

“Okay. We’ll just give you a mild anesthetic and then go in through the mouth.” The doctor smiles. 

The procedure is painless, but that’s just the anesthetic. It’s quicker than it feels like it should be, they simply reach in and pull out all the buds that are starting to grow. Then they prescribe a pill that’ll keep you from growing any more, some sort of psych drug that stops your feelings dead in their tracks. The only downside is you can’t smoke weed for a week while taking them. Don’t want to risk increasing the feelings.

You don’t text John about how the procedure went. After taking the first pill, you don’t even consider it.


End file.
